


Where They Started

by fleete



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Comment Fic, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 23:48:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/627881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleete/pseuds/fleete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt: <em>I want a Merthur reincarnation fic where they remember their past lives and who they really are mid-blowjob.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Where They Started

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Начало пути](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9120937) by [NewBeginnings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewBeginnings/pseuds/NewBeginnings)



> Written for thatlibrarianthere, because you cannot just put prompts like that out in the world and not expect them to get written. <3

The man's he sucking off today is more handsome than usual. 

There's a chip in the tile under his right knee, and it keeps stabbing into his kneecap, and the toliet next to him smells of industrial strength disinfectant and piss, and in spite of all of that, Merlin is quite literally gagging for it. Spit is dripping down his chin and making his throat itch, but he can't stop, can only clench his fists in expensive fabric around the man's thighs and _swallow_. Merlin can feel his heartbeat in his dick where it's stuck in his pants, and if this guy keeps moaning and pulling on his hair like that, he's going to walk out of here with highly embarrassing wet spot.  
￼￼  
"Yeah," the guy whispers--weirdly, since he's been moaning uninhibitedly this entire time. "Yeah, please, like that." His fingers scratch at Merlin's scalp, roam down to squeeze at Merlin's nape. Merlin sucks harder in approval.

"Come on, Merlin," the man whispers, pulling at Merlin's earlobe.

It takes Merlin a second, but he does pause, the tip of the guy's cock still in his mouth, when he remembers that _he never gave his name_.

Merlin looks up--

He jerks, but the hand at the back of his head catches him like a vise, keeps him close. The man isn't anonymous anymore; he's concrete and familiar and _god it was just yesterday_ , from the shape of his jaw to the way the sweaty hair falls on his forehead to the color of his eyes through his lashes. For a second, Merlin can't remember where he is or what he's doing here on the floor with Arthur's cock in his mouth.

He meets Arthur's eyes.

Arthur hadn't known either, it seems, because Merlin can see the realization sinking in. Arthur's cheeks start to pull back into that wry look of bewilderment that Merlin always liked, the one that made Arthur look like a little kid. Merlin misses that, suddenly. He misses Arthur, strangely enough, even though Arthur's standing right in front of him, and Merlin hadn't even known that there was someone to miss until just now. 

A little bark of laughter bubbles out of him, and it makes Merlin's tongue move against the tip of Arthur's cock.

Arthur huffs out a breath, eyes widening.

Merlin's brain catches up with him, and he jerks back to free his mouth, Arthur's cock dropping between them. "Sorry."

"No," Arthur says. "No, no. Ah. We seem to have..."

He doesn't finish his sentence, and there follows a long moment during which they say nothing. The door outside bangs open and falls shut, and they listen together as someone washes his hands and curses when the hand dryer is broken and then leaves. At some point, Merlin becomes aware of Arthur's thumb moving against his nape again. Merlin lets his eyelids droop and leans his forehead against Arthur's hip.

There are at least twelve different things that he wants to say, and twelve more than he needs to say, but he doesn't want to break this moment. 

And there's no one here to see. 

Arthur's thumb digs in pleasurably at the top of his spine, and Merlin lets out a gasp before he can help it.

"Merlin," Arthur murmurs above him.

"Sire," Merlin says back and then feels it when Arthur shudders in response. He presses a kiss against the point of Arthur's hipbone. But then Arthur's cock bobs up and brushes Merlin's chin, and Arthur coughs, his hand slipping from Merlin's hair to grab at his cock and angle it away from Merlin's face.

When Merlin looks up at him, Arthur has bright red splotches in his cheeks and up his neck. "Sorry," Arthur says.

Merlin doesn't know what possesses him. It's _Arthur_ , after all. His friend. His King.

Merlin turns his head and licks. His tongue brushes over Arthur's ring finger where his hand is closed around his own cock, and Arthur inhales loudly but doesn't move. He lets Merlin lick at the webbing between his fingers and suck at his knuckles and nuzzles at his balls, and eventually, after sighing out " _Mer_ lin" a few times in that painfully familiar way, he opens his hand and lets Merlin suck him down.

And then they're back where they started, with Merlin's knees against the cracked tile and Arthur's cock down his throat.

Except it isn't where they started. When Arthur says, "Yes, please, like that," it is exotic and new, and when Merlin leans into the hand against his cheek, it is newly significant.

This isn't where they started at all.

(Merlin does walk out of there with a wet spot, but it's all right. He holds Arthur's folded coat in front of him, and they go for a curry, blushing all the way.)


End file.
